The Amish and Forgiveness
I, along with the rest of the world, watched and read the reports after the recent Amish school shooting with deep interest. (As the former education reporter for the Lancaster, Pa., morning newspaper, thank goodness I was watching and reading rather than having to cover the events firsthand.)
I was especially intrigued by the reports of the Amish response -- the grandfather of a slain girl standing over her coffin telling his other grandchildren, "We must not think evil of this man." Or the midwife who had delivered a few of the young girls saying, "If you have Jesus in your heart and he has forgiven you, how can you not forgive others?" And reports that as donations flooded in from around the world to help the Amish cover medical expenses, the Amish community asked to set up a fund for the children of the shooter. They even visited the shooter's wife to offer forgiveness and attended his funeral.
I heard a friend recently ask how this kind of response could possibly be sincere, especially so soon after the tragedy. Donald Kraybill, a fellow Mennonite who has written a lot about the Amish, explains it well in this Philadelphia Inquirer article. Forgiveness is woven into the Amish way of life. It's their natural response. It is, quite simply, what they do.
I admit I have never had to forgive on a level so profound as this. I have never had to forgive an abusive parent, a cheating spouse, someone who did me or someone I love physical harm -- let alone someone who killed my child. So my experience with forgiveness is the everyday hurts we all encounter. So take my thoughts with that in mind....
I have always thought of forgiveness as a process. That as soon as we say, "I forgive you," that means we are taking the first step on the long journey to true reconciliation. It means we are committed to the process that lays ahead. It means that in the name of Jesus we are claiming the power of forgiveness, even though there will be days when the hurt and resentment and hatred boils to the surface. A late friend, Louise, who wrote a book called Traces of Wisdom: Amish Women and the Pursuit of Life's Simple Pleasures based on her experience growing up Amish says the following in her book: "My people also realize that extending pardon is not always simple and that the process of working on forgiveness may require patience and time. Indeed, a forgiving life is both as difficult and as luminous an achievement as any transforming work of art."
As an Anabaptist and a Christian, I am convicted by this response. Too often my natural response is one of judgment. One of wanting justice. But I strive to live a forgiving life -- and my masterpiece is still being worked out on the canvas.
I was especially intrigued by the reports of the Amish response -- the grandfather of a slain girl standing over her coffin telling his other grandchildren, "We must not think evil of this man." Or the midwife who had delivered a few of the young girls saying, "If you have Jesus in your heart and he has forgiven you, how can you not forgive others?" And reports that as donations flooded in from around the world to help the Amish cover medical expenses, the Amish community asked to set up a fund for the children of the shooter. They even visited the shooter's wife to offer forgiveness and attended his funeral.
I heard a friend recently ask how this kind of response could possibly be sincere, especially so soon after the tragedy. Donald Kraybill, a fellow Mennonite who has written a lot about the Amish, explains it well in this Philadelphia Inquirer article. Forgiveness is woven into the Amish way of life. It's their natural response. It is, quite simply, what they do.
I admit I have never had to forgive on a level so profound as this. I have never had to forgive an abusive parent, a cheating spouse, someone who did me or someone I love physical harm -- let alone someone who killed my child. So my experience with forgiveness is the everyday hurts we all encounter. So take my thoughts with that in mind....
I have always thought of forgiveness as a process. That as soon as we say, "I forgive you," that means we are taking the first step on the long journey to true reconciliation. It means we are committed to the process that lays ahead. It means that in the name of Jesus we are claiming the power of forgiveness, even though there will be days when the hurt and resentment and hatred boils to the surface. A late friend, Louise, who wrote a book called Traces of Wisdom: Amish Women and the Pursuit of Life's Simple Pleasures based on her experience growing up Amish says the following in her book: "My people also realize that extending pardon is not always simple and that the process of working on forgiveness may require patience and time. Indeed, a forgiving life is both as difficult and as luminous an achievement as any transforming work of art."
As an Anabaptist and a Christian, I am convicted by this response. Too often my natural response is one of judgment. One of wanting justice. But I strive to live a forgiving life -- and my masterpiece is still being worked out on the canvas.
posted by Alyssa at 2:28 PM
2 Comments:
Good thoughts. It was refreshing (not to mention startling) to hear news reports of the radical forgiveness these Amish practiced, refreshing b/c the usual TV and radio fare about Christians has less to do with forgiveness than hatred, less to do with loving enemies than with blowing them up. It appears we Christians of a more "sophisticated" stripe, with our college degrees and all our technological saavy, should take a page (or two or three) from the Amish book.
Alyssa,
I loved reading your thoughts about forgiveness. It is a process, and a difficult one. It's encouraging to see whole communities so committed to it as a way of life.
Alice
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